Strahlenfolter - Maryam Ruhullah - MkUltra Survivor - Www_ruhullaha_maryamkho_blogspot_de

7/29/2019 Strahlenfolter - Maryam Ruhullah - MkUltra Survivor - Www_ruhullaha_maryamkho_blogspot_de

1/33

pdfcrowd comopen in browser PRO version Are you a developer? Try out the HTML to PDF API

W E D N E S D A Y , 1 9 D E C E M B E R 2 01 2

Objective Truth

Open Letter

The following is an open letter from two of our members. Please

distribute it widely, to lawyers everywhere.

Dear Counsel,

As an attorney, you know how important the Constitution and the rule

of law is. We've just suffered through years of attack on the system

of laws and justice in which we practice.

Many lawyers are concerned about presidential signing statements,

spying on American citizens, torture, and other challenges to

American law and international conventions... As attorneys, we are

not swayed quite so much as some people by ungrounded emotions.

We have expertise in analyzing competing claims, weighing

conflicting evidence, and reaching logical decisions about what really

happened. Moreover, as lawyers, we know that people sometimes

cover up and attempt to hide incompetence, recklessness, or crime.

We have all heard people say that "everything changed on 9/11", as if

that were an excuse to disregard the Constitution as a "quaint",

0Share More Next Blog Create Blog Sign In

MkUltra Survivorsurvivorship, determination, success, faith, sufism, art, writers, poets, spirituality, hope, joy, prayer, truth,

social justice, human rights, peace, thinkers, doers, humanitarians, Mk-Ultra, sacredness, meditation,visions
http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/12/objective-truth.htmlhttp://www.blogger.com/next-blog?navBar=true&blogID=8481673037906412955http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/12/objective-truth.htmlhttp://www.blogger.com/next-blog?navBar=true&blogID=8481673037906412955http://www.blogger.com/home#createhttp://www.blogger.com/http://www.blogger.com/


2/33


outdated document. Not many American attorneys believe that.

In fact, many high-powered attorneys have questioned the Bush

administration's explanation for 9/11 itself, including why the Bush

administration allowed the hijacked planes to inflict so much damage

on 9/11. By way of example only, the following lawyers have publicly

questioned the Bush administration's explanation for 9/11, or believe

there might have been a whitewash and a cover-up:

J. Michael Springmann, head of the U.S. consular official in Jeddah,Saudi Arabia, who witnessed first-hand CIA agents insisting that

terrorists be let into the U.S., even though their paperwork was

wholly inadequate

John Loftus, Former Federal Prosecutor, Office of Special

Investigations, U.S. Department of Justice under Presidents Jimmy

Carter and Ronald Reagan, former U.S. Army Intelligence officer, and

currently a widely-sought media commentator on terrorism and

intelligence services J. Terrence "Terry" Brunner, former prosecutor in the Organized

Crime and Racketeering Section of the U.S. Justice Department and a

key member of Attorney General Bobby Kennedy's anti-corruption task

force; former assistant U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of

Illinois

Francis Boyle, Professor of International Law at the University of

Illinois, Champaign, a leading practitioner and advocate of

international law, responsible for drafting the Biological Weapons

Anti-Terrorism Act of 1989

Burns H. Weston, Distinguished Professor of Law Emeritus and

Founding Director and Senior Scholar, Center for Human Rights, The

University of Iowa, Honorary Editor, Board of Editors, American

Journal of International Law

Richard Falk, Professor Emeritus, International Law, Professor of

Politics and International Affairs, Princeton University
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdf


3/33


Mark Conrad, assistant professor of Criminal Justice at Troy

University; associate General Counsel, National Association of Federal

Agents; Retired Agent in Charge, Internal Affairs, U.S. Customs,

responsible for the internal integrity and security for areas

encompassing nine states and two foreign locations

Horst Ehmke, former Minister of Justice of West Germany.

Professor of law, University of Freiburg;

Ferdinando Imposimato, Honorary President of the Supreme Courtof Italy. Former Senior Investigative Judge, Italy. Presided over

numerous terrorism-related cases

The lawyers listed above, and many other legal scholars, have looked

at the evidence and determined that a new, unbiased 9/11

investigation is needed.

We invite you to go to www.L911T.com, the website for Lawyers for

9/11 Truth, and look for yourself.

Signed,Burns Weston

Distinguished Professor of Law Emeritus and Founding Director and

Senior Scholar, Center for Human Rights, The University of Iowa,

Honorary Editor, Board of Editors, American Journal of International

Law

William Veale

Former instructor of Criminal Trial Practice at Boalt Hall School of

Law, University of California at Berkeley. Retired Chief Assistant

Public Defender, Contra Costa County.

Home

To contact Lawyers for 9/11 Truth, you can write to us at Email @

L911T.com (without any spaces). If you are a lawyer, judge or

professor of law, active or retired, wishing to add your name to the

petition, please provide proof of your qualification to practice law

with your email. For example, if you are an Illinois attorney, you can


4/33


send a link to the Illinois state bar's attorney database:

http://www.iardc.org/ardcroll.asp. If you are a New York attorney,

you can provide a link to this database:

http://iapps.courts.state.ny.us/attorney/AttorneySearch.

Currently, Lawyers for 9/11 Truth is not engaging in any formal legal

efforts as a group. Therefore, requests for legal assistance will

probably go unanswered at this time.

Posted by ruhullaha at 08:23 No comments:

F R I D A Y , 3 0 N O V E M B E R 2 01 2

Defeating Anguish

"And your creation or your resurrection is in no wise but as an

individual soul: for Allah is He who hears and sees (All things)." TheNobel Qur'an (31:28)

It was mentioned in my first published posting on this blog site, that I

am a survivor of Mk-Ultra. Although that statement took less than ten

seconds to type, the magnitude of the reality surrounding the facts of

Mk-Ultra go beyond the capacity of measurement where the damages

done to its living human subjects is concerned.

I do not sharing my personal experiemces and pains because I feel

sorry for myself. Self-pity, in my opinion, yields too much of ones to

the perpetrators who impose afflictions. There are of course days

when my spirit descend into a woeful state and I experience the

sensation of feeling detached and estranged from everything and

everyone around me. But, a determined spirit coupled with rigorous

exercise and prayer, emotional lows don't dominate too many of my
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/12/objective-truth.htmlhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/12/objective-truth.html#comment-formhttp://www.blogger.com/email-post.g?blogID=8481673037906412955&postID=6769963964056654322http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/defeating-anguish.html


5/33


days. There are also moments when in remembering some of the

extreme abuses committed against me, that I stand in the mental

disbelief that such callous and inhumane actions could have been

enacted on a functioning human life.


Labels: Regeneration

T H U R S D A Y , 2 9 N O V E M B E R 2 0 12

Creative Expression

What Writing Means to Me The ability to express my voice and views

through writing has afforded me the opportunity for self-development

while indulging my need to have an interactive global theatre where Ican release my opinions on subjects such as social justice, human

rights, domestic violence, human trafficking and other such

important global issues in todays challenging society. Since my early

teens, I have been an active volunteer in a number of organizations

starting with volunteering with hospital when I turned sixteen years

old. Volunteer opportunities have allotted me a format where I

improved and utilized my writing talent while expanding the concepts

and principles, which I hold dear. I have used my writing talents

through volunteerism by creating fundraising letters, publicity

releases, published news articles, and making solicited contribution to

my faith-based newsletter. Since early childhood, writing has g iven

me a path for self-knowledge, self-expression and self-awareness.

Writing being a core essential of which I am has been my companion

during difficulties and joys. My talent has given me a place to go

when there were no ears around to listen to my woes. I do not write
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/defeating-anguish.htmlhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/defeating-anguish.html#comment-formhttp://www.blogger.com/email-post.g?blogID=8481673037906412955&postID=3938758461700483529http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/search/label/Regenerationhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/what-writing-means-to-methe-ability-to.html


6/33


exclusively in one genre, I have written a little poetry, news articles,

fundraising solicitation letters and several creative manuscripts.

Since I view myself as a humanitarian, my writing serves a

fundamental functioning tool in having a place and vital method

where conveying my passions are concerned. In early childhood I was

forcefully separated from my biological family. That traumatic

incident and the situation that followed constituted where and why I

found my writing interest. As a young child isolated from the otherchildren in the household where I lived, solitude and silence became

the fertile soil where creativity germinated and where I learned to

look inwardly, beyond self and where I learned that there was an

existence beyond my own fears, confusions, uncertainties, sadness

and fragility. In the creative manuscript that I have completed, From

the Broken Glass to the Sheet of Ice, I travel through the emotions

of a young, six year old female child whose life took a sudden and

drastic change. A child ripped from her biological family, her richlycolorful and diverged culture, her gentile and privileged social

stratagem and perhaps the most traumatic element of the

experience, the intentionally and cruel techniques used to detached

those memories; while, unknowingly, leaving nostalgic residues still

swirled and dangled in the young girls mind like tantalizing bits of an

animated fairy tale. A fellow writer once asked me how I was able to

so effectively get into the mind of a fictitious child. Several years

ago, a journalist I know, who as a favor, edited a few pages of the

mentioned manuscript actually asked me if the child character in the

manuscript was being channeled. I, of course, assured the editor that

no such metaphysical or esoteric components were involved in the

structuring and composing my novel. One of the most gratifying

elements of writing for me is when this ability yields a published news

articles that addresses societal issues, which are important to me.

While living in St. Louis, Missouri, I was asked to write an article


7/33


regarding the, Women in Black. Women in Black, is a movement

started by Israeli and Palestinian women who vigils monthly wearing

only black garments to make a statement against the occupation in

the West Bank and Gaza. Once the article was written and published,

I received a phone call from the founder of the University City,

Missouri chapter of WIB, Ms. Hedy Epstein, whose one word

communication to me regarding the article was, Powerful. Writing

allows me the opportunity to put into a tangible format whatotherwise might appear to be abstract reality. An example, of such

self-express ion can be found in the following phrase, which I wrote

years ago, At the time when I felt there would be no more of me,

there than was Thee. That particular cathartic express ion helped me

to identify with and then to express the core that I am. One way that

writing is important in my life is how it demands of me self-challenge.

On Friday, October 19th, 2012, I will attend a Presentation Luncheon

titled, Womens Roll: Essential for Sustainable Peace and Security.After attending this event, as a freelance writer, I will have the

opportunity to write an article and submit it to a local publication that

has published similar material written by me prior. In addition, having

the ability to chronicle such a socially pertinent event allows me the

privilege to absorb the significance of the luncheons thesis then to

contribute back to the broader community the presentations gist.

Since the luncheon will occur while many individuals are working, a

comprehensive published synopsis of the critical thesis assures that

the general community at large will have the opportunity to benefit.

Further for me, personally, in being able to make a creative

contribute, I am not exclusively, merely, a sideline spectator for the

passionate social issues that concern me; as well as not being simply

a sideline viewer in my own life. As life, void of a nine to five

responsibility, has opened, seemingly more of the preciously item

called time, I relish what becomes accomplishable with the advent of


8/33


each day. Non-ass igned time, permits me to look inwardly while

asking the question, is my life still about goals and accomplishments?

Each new day offers the opportunity through my writing to speak from

the powerful position, which emits from the strength of being a

survivor. The Accomplished Woman my current work-in-progress

brings with it the inspiration of how to preserve and honor the true

self. The fact that I have endured suffering and exploitation yet

somewhere, still exist within me the knowledge of the gifted womanwho was subjected to the intentional disregard of her personal human

rights, yet, still, miraculously maintained personal values and the

propensity for social responsibility and justice. Writing is important

to me, as it has helped me to help others. I have received emails

from individuals who have thanked me for starting my blog. Some of

the blogs postings have given some readers the courage needed to

speak up regarding their prior abuses. When a survivor can reach out

and connect with others they feel less isolated and this is a majorcomponent on the path of healing. I have a very positive attitude

where life is concerned and I also get inspiration and motivation when

I hear a survivor realize that all experiences of life happen for a

reason. It is an insightfulness blessing and wisdom, which does not

blame


The Acomplished Woman

The Accomplished Woman The train ride into London from

Cambridge, England on that pleasant spring day was quiet. I dont

recall speaking to anyone when boarding, nor do I recall becoming

engaged in conversation with others during the hour-long trip.

Although not giving at least casual acknowledgements to others as I
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/what-writing-means-to-methe-ability-to.htmlhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/what-writing-means-to-methe-ability-to.html#comment-formhttp://www.blogger.com/email-post.g?blogID=8481673037906412955&postID=7881290349201636735http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/the-accomplished-womanthe-train-ride.html


9/33

df d mi b PRO i Are you a developer? Try out the HTML to PDF API

journeyed through a day was unusual for me, in the context of my

personal reality, on that day, there was really nothing usualexcept

the routine habit of purchasing a daily newspaper. I had phoned ahead

to the Iranian embassy prior to taking a major advancement forward

where reclaiming my life was concerned. Understandably, I felt the

need to somehow feel out the atmosphere I was about to enter. Of

course, the thought passed through my mind: this would all be so

much easier if only my uncle were still alive. It was difficult to processthe fact that I was planning to walk into a foreign embassy and

declare openlyto total strangersthe bold assertion that I was the

niece of Irans most historically prominent cleric, the Late Ayatollah

Khomeini. A week or so passed before I finally mustered the courage

to pick up the telephone and set the appointment for my first vis it to

the Iranian embassy. During that week, I could be seen pacing the

interior of the small suite I had rented. After conducting an intense

internal survey, I found myself experiencing self-doubt, self-incrimination, fear, apprehension, and confusion. At the same time, I

began to question my own self-worth and motives. Some of the

reasonable and understandable questions manifested: Why are you

subjecting yourself to what will probably been a humiliating

experience? What are you expecting to accomplish from this action?

Should you be doing this? The people at the embassy will probably

think you are either opportunistic or unstable. After all these years,

you intend to just walk into a foreign embassy proclaiming a

consanguinity relationship with the Late Imam Khomeini? You dont

even know how many years it has been since you were forced from

your home. Come on! A struggling rationale flowed: In all actuality is

there anyone left in Iranor the worldwho truly cares? You will

probably be walking into a closed door, an indifferent bureaucracy.

Why on earth should the people in the embassy care? Then, again, the

question arose: Why are you doing this?! My enormous apprehensions


10/33

df di b PRO i Are you a developer? Try out the HTML to PDF API

were quickly put to ease when I was respectfully greeted on my first

visit to the embassy. I did not adhere to the tradition that a woman

covers her head with a scarf on my first visit to the embassywhich,

in hindsight, wasnt the most prudent thing to do. In not knowing

what to expect from the visit, I wanted to see what type of reaction I

would receive at the embassy when I arrived void of Hijab (the

Islamic head covering worn by women). When I entered the embassys

reception area, I was greeted with politeness and directed to take aseat. After a few minutes, the young woman at the reception desk

smiled and made a slight gesture, indicating with her right hand over

her head, that I had not covered my head. I responded by acting as

though I was surprised or confused. As I vaguely recall, I shrugged my

shoulders and mouthed the words, Im sorry. After thirty minutes

or so, the very lovely and gracious receptionist offered me a beautiful

headscarf. While she presented the Hijab, she stated that the scarf

was available to me, but only if I wanted to wear it. I smiled andthanked the receptionist, placed the Hijab on my head, and was about

to be reseated when an interior door leading from the reception area

opened. A diplomat named Mr. Shahid stepped forward and

introduced himself. Once seated inside of Mr. Shahids office, I

apologized for not hav ing been covered when I entered the embassy.

He assured me that that was an inconsequential matter, offered me

tea, and made me feel comfortable and welcome. For the next six to

eight weeks, I visited the embassy once a week and spent at least

one hour in discussion with Mr. Shahid, exclusively on the subject of

Islam. The conversations between this diplomat and myself were

confined to Islam for the first several weeks. The courage to bring up

my being the niece of the founder of the Islamic Revolution in Iran did

not immediately flow from my lips, not even after a number visits. As

I mentioned earlier, I was apprehensive, uncertain, and concerned as

to how my admission would be received. Initially, when I phoned the


11/33

df di b PRO i A d l ? T t th HTML t PDF API

embassy in my enquiry, I asked about Islam. I told the person I spoke

with that I had recently converted to Islam and wanted to learn more

about the religion. It may have seemed that my enquiry was a ruse

since my major objective in making this connection was to unite with

my past; but actually, there was no ruse, since learning more about

Islam was a genuine secondary motive for visiting the embassy. After

a number of visits and discussions, I finally braved the question

regarding the separation between the Sunni and Shia perceptions ofIslam. When answering, Mr. Shahid alluded to the political expediency

for the separation; since the answer appeared to satisfy me, that

subject was never broached again.I had originally made the trip to

London, England at the suggestion of a doctor who was treating me

for what he called intermittent amnesia, an euphemistic term used

regarding a person who has been brutally tormented though medical

torture and mind control. How ironic that in that moment, on that

day, the term had placed a smile on my face and brought a bit ofrelief to my heart? After all, a two-word combination, a title, a

definitionhad been given to the uncertainty, which surrounded my

life at that time. I felt that this intellect, this edifice, and this entity,

which had been suspended and separated from its innate core, now

had a definition, an explanation, and then prayerfully, a path for

healing and memory return. The fact that a clinical association had

been given to the state of my inner bewilderment, my memory loss,

energized vital deeply buried ambers that were in fact, a forgotten

self. During my first visits to the embassy, I did not realize, had not

fully acknowledged, nor had not remembered or accepted the fact that

I was a survivor of a United States Government Human

Experimentation Program. I knew that something was wrong,

something that I could not quite put a finger on; but I knew that

whatever it was, that something could no longer be ignored. After all,

there were large periods of times in my life that I could not remember


12/33df di b PRO i A d l ? T t th HTML t PDF API

or grasp. Still, somehow, within this devastating reality, some very

minute yet significant kernels of recollection inside me would

occasionally stir, peak, and attempt to reconnect to what had been

intentionally severed memories. As a survivor, to this date, I critically

wonder how many medically unnecessary electroshock treatments

were administrated that could have caused a devoted mother to

forget ever having given birth? What was the hypnotic method

implanted that blocked talents, instincts, drives, and spiritualacumen? Where is, or what has happened, to the brilliant mind that

had once been extended an invitation to become a MENSA member?

How is such inhumane brutality still possible? Perhaps it was the third

or fourth visit to Mr. Shahid;s office, on a Monday afternoon, when,

after a prolonged deep breath, I was able to state, Mr. Shahid,

theres something I need to discuss with you. Although, three weeks

is not a lengthy amount of time for trust to develop between two

strangers, I have been treated with respect from the moment I firstentered the embassys door. For this reason, some of my

apprehension has subsided, and my courage has begun to peak. I

explained that the constant cordiality and warm atmosphere at the

embassy loosened some of my fears. As a result, I realized that by

delaying the presentation of the primary purpose for my visits to the

embassy, I was postponing what I so desperately wanted to do: regain

control of my own life. I further acknowledged that the longer I waited

to tell my truth, the more difficult it would become. On that beautiful

sunlit day in London, England, after accepting a second cup of offered

tea in Mr. Shahids windowless office of mahogany wood wall panels

and furnishings, I looked Mr. Shahid directly in his eyes and managed,

Mr. Shahid, let me preface what I am about to tell you by stating

how much I sincerely appreciate the time you have allotted to me

these past few weeks. Furthermore, you have been more than

gracious while I have been treated with such respect and have felt so


13/33df di b PRO i

Are you a developer? Try out the HTML to PDF API

welcomed. I smiled the words, and the exceptional tea served to

me during these visits should be a strong enough catalyst to help ease

my hesitations in what I need to discuss with you. After a deep

breath, and with an ingrained composure not totally understood, the

phrase, I have reason to believe that I am the niece of the Late

Ayatollah Khomeini, seeped from my lips. Upon hearing my

statement, Mr. Shahid did not flinch. He did not change the position

of his posture, nor did he stand in the gesture of having me ejectedfrom the embassy. Instead, he calmly asked, Would you be willing to

take a DNA test to that effect? I immediately responded, Of course

I would. Can this be done today? With a k ind and cordial smile, he

stated, We dont exactly keep DNA test kits here in the embassy,

but before we advance to that stage, I need to ask what you think we

can do for you here at the embassy. You can help me get custody of

my minor daughter and help me to return to Iran. Where your

daughter is concerned, we can look into helping you; but regarding

your returning to Iran, I will start the paperwork for your visa right

away. Ill need a visa to return to Iran? I naively questioned with a

look of surprise on my face. Your relationship to Iran is through a

maternal lineage. It would be only through a paternal lineage that you

would have a right to citizenship. But lets not get into such matters

now. What is important to know, though, is how long you plan to stay

on this vis it. At least six months. I cant imagine any time less

being beneficial. Would the requirement of wearing a Hijab be a

problem for you? Not at all, I assured the diplomat. I am

accustomed to wearing a Hijab when I leave the house. I think that

my illogical reasoning for not wearing a scarf on the first visit was

due to the fact that I did not know what to expect. I was unsure of

how I would be received, and I wanted to get a better feel of what I

was getting myself into. With a teasing smile on his handsome face,

the diplomat sat with his back flushed against the back of the chair,

d hi l d d I h I l f ll h


14/33df di b PRO iAre you a developer? Try out the HTML to PDF API

crossed his legs, and stated, I cannot say that I exactly follow that

logic. Neither did I at that time, nor do I at this time. I honestly

confessed while observing the mental wheels turning as Mr. Shahid

attempted to process the Hijab tale. A moment later, with a smile

still visible, Mr. Shahid stood and excused himself for a few minutes.

Upon his return, he confided: I dont know if this information will

come as a surprise to you, but you probably have no idea how many

women have come through these doors over the years claiming to beyou. An amazing number! emphasized the diplomat. Each person

who has presented herself to this embassy had a great deal of

information regarding you and your situation. There was one young

woman who was so convincing that we actually believed her. We were

about to send her to Iran. Of course, this incident happened before

the current DNA test was developed. We were so sure of the womans

identity that we sent for Imam Khomeini. When Imam Khomeini

arrived, he took one look at the woman and stated, I dont know who

this imposter is, but she is not my niece. He did not ask the woman

any questions. He did not take one step toward her; yet he somehow

immediately knew that the woman wasnt you. Since the diplomat

was so comfortable with sharing this story with me and had asked

about a DNA test, I surmised that perhaps the test had already been

taken. The cups of tea previous ly offered and accepted could have

been the vehicle whereby the test was processed. I, of course, did not

mind that this test had probably been administered. After all, the

results of the test would be the proof of my exceptional assertion.

The direction of our conversation lead me to inquire, Mr.Shahid, did

you know that Imam Khomeini came to the United States before

returning to Iran after the success of the revolution, and he wanted to

take me back to Iran with him? After I posed the question, the young

male attendant who served tea during my weekly vis its entered the

room, refreshing my tea. I smiled toward him gratefully, not only for

th f h d t b t l f th t d d t f th t i


15/33df di b PRO iAre you a developer? Try out the HTML to PDF API

the refreshed tea, but also for the moment needed to further contain

my composure. I looked directly into Mr. Shahids eyes and felt a little

stunned by the memory. How astonishing! How amazing! How is it

even possible that I had not thought about that excruciating night

until now? Wow! One of the most important people in my life suddenly

reappeared into my life, and I totally forgot about that night. Silence

instantly took over the room. It was a necessary silence for me since

in that moment, I attempted to process the reality of my unclesdeath, the years of being forced from my own life, and my

debilitating memory loss. The scent of a perfectly brewed and

exceptional tasting cup of tea, placed on an end table next to me,

grabbed the attention of my olfactory senses . Once I had taken

several sips of tea, I was able to continue. It was Christmas Eve. I

was living in St. Louis, Missouri, which is in the United States. Like

many Christmas Eves before, I was planning to attend Midnight Mass

with the individuals I had been led to believe were my biological

family. On that bitterly cold winter night, I had no idea that once I

entered the vestibule of the Catholic Church I would suddenly be faced

with such a v iable element of myself and of my past. Upon entering

the church, I overheard a male voice stating in a firm voice of

authority, I do not believe what you are telling me, and I will never

believe what you are saying unless I hear the words directly from her

mouth! He continued, If what you are stating is true then why dont

you bring my niece to me and let her tell me for herself that she

wants nothing to do with me, her faith, or her past. After hearing

these heated words, since I did not recognize the voice of the man

speaking, I had no way of knowing that the person being discussed

was me. When the other person in the conversation spoke, I

recognized the voice and was very surprised to find that person

engaged in such a combative verbal exchange at church, especially on

Christmas Eve. I have gained her trust, was the next string of words

I heard from the male voice I recognized You must understand that


16/33

Are you a developer? Try out the HTML to PDF API

I heard from the male voice I recognized. You must understand that

its because of that trust that she confided to me that she had

rejected Islam, had accepted Christianity, and that she had no desire

or intentions of returning to Iran. I knew that the voice I had

recognized was a member of local law enforcement, so I quickened my

pace to enter the church wanting to respect whatever was occurring in

the vestibule. As I reached for an interior door that led to the body of

the church, I was surprised when the individual whose voice I knewstepped forward from a dimly lit corner of the vestibule, blocking my

entrance into the church. In accordance with family tradition, the

people that I unknowingly viewed as my biological family spent

Christmas Eve at the house of the eldest sister. Additionally,

everyone dressed up for Midnight Mass. A week or so before

Christmas, the family stated that the decision to dress casually for

Midnight Mass had been made for the purpose of giving

acknowledgement to the less fortunate. When I exerted the fact that I

had not voted on that decision, I was told that they all knew that I

would not have voted to dress down and that they did not need my

vote since I had been outvoted. So it was in the appearance of

everyday, casual attire that entered the vestibule of the church that

evening. Naturally, I believed that my being blocked from entering the

interior of the church was merely an action to give me the opportunity

to speak, so I smiled and said hello to the person preventing my

entrance. When my smile was not returned but instead was met with

a stern, unfriendly face, I became perplexed and immediately

questioned why any type of altercation would be occurring in the

church on one of the holiest days on the Christian calendar. I also

wondered how I could possibly be involved. Because of the member of

law enforcement who blocked me, I feared that something dangerous

might be happening. I was somewhat panicked when I looked at him

and he gestured with his head for me to look to the other end of the

vestibule Shockingly there stood my uncle the Ayatollah Khomeini


17/33

pdfcrowd.comopen in browser PRO version Are you a developer? Try out the HTML to PDF API

vestibule. Shockingly, there stood my uncle, the Ayatollah Khomeini.

The Ayatollah was dressed traditionally, but somehow, I instantly

recognized him. The sudden and jolting reconnection with my

authentic past caused me to rapidly advance toward my uncle. As I

approached this cleric, I saw that a wide, caring, smile graced his

face. The next words I heard came from Imam Khomeini. He stated,

I thought you said that she had rejected Islam and wanted nothing to

do with her past? As I began telling Mr. Shahid this story, I was notaware of how long I had been in his office. Had I been in his office

fifteen minutes or fifty minutes? That notion of time never entered

my mind, and he never looked at this watch. I continued on with my

story. They said that you would not remember me, Imam Khomeini

said, as I attempted to further advance. The sight of his wide,

radiant smile and glistening eyes let me know how relieved and

pleased my uncle was to see me. That night, as I continued to

approach Imam Khomeini, the law enforcement officer, whom I had so

fully respected and trusted to this point and time, placed one of his

arms out, firmly stopping me from being able to advance. Well he

said with a smirk, we thought that she didnt remember anything

regarding her past. When we dangled you around her geographic

space these past few days, she did not intuitively pick up on the fact

that you were near. Thats at least something regarding the

effectiveness of the electroshock and other methods we used on her.

I briefly surmise that damage has been done to her perceptional

instincts. The fact that she did not know you were around these few

days means that we have dismantled some, if not all, of her

propensities toward clairvoyance and spiritual acumen. Whatever

damage weve done, she has little or nothing left of her brilliance or

talents to contribute to those nations who reside outside our

alliances. At this time, the mood in the church became very somber

and intense. The law enforcement officers indifferent and arrogant

attitude and behavior continued once he stated I must admit that I


18/33


attitude and behavior continued once he stated, I must admit that I

was totally surprised by the fact that she seems to remember you at

all. We were under the impression that her mind was completely

amnesic where her past was concerned. What a revelation! he added

sarcastically. I guess we just might have to start the electroshock

treatments again. We nearly lost her a few times with that technique,

but since she obviously remembers something, more electroshock

should reset the amnesia. When I heard this callus statementpresented with such malice, I looked again at my uncle and saw that

his smile had been replaced with a stern posture. I had no idea that

my niece had been caused to suffer so, nor did I know that she was

being held in such low regard, he stated empathically. A thought

zipped through my mind so rapidly that it almost went unnoticed and

unrecordedthat thought being: You should have known! As we stood

in the vestibule, the physical distance between my uncle and myself

was less than twenty feet, although the footage seemed monumental

to me. As my uncle stepped forward, lessening the distance, he

stated, I see no reason why any of this torment and insensitive

treatment toward my niece should continue. We might as well leave

now, he said, as he extended his right hand to me. At that moment,

on that night, it was not humanly possible for me to process the

reality of all the things that had happened to me in my life to that

point and time. I only knew that instinctually, innately, every cell of

my body had the strongest propensity to be as close to my uncle as

possible. My body, mind, and spirit longed to reconnect with a sense

of being loved, valued, cherished, respected, and appreciated. Next, I

heard his firmly placed words, I truly do not want my niece to be

subjected to further violations or denigration; so, since I have agreed

to all of your unreasonable demands, there stands no mediating

reason why we shouldnt just leave now. The negotiating member of

law enforcement who stood in the vestibule like a diabolical rodent

with a satisfying grin on his face grabbed my right arm firmly and


19/33


with a satisfying grin on his face grabbed my right arm firmly and

said, There is one thing on the agreement that you seem to have

overlooked. The government spokesman then waved a piece of paper

toward the Imam. The young man who had accompanied the Imam

stepped forward, reached for the paper, and gave it to the Imam.

After carefully reading the contents of the paper, the Imam shook his

head and stated with noticeable vocal anger, What is this! We

scrutinized the document given to us earlier thoroughly. This is notthe same document, nor are terms previously presented. Something

has been added to the original agreement, and I cant go along with

the addition. This addition was not a part of the original

negotiations. The government spokesman had a sinister look on his

face and tightened his grip on my arm, causing me discomfort. He

stated, Did you know that your beloved uncle played a role in your

first kidnapping? At that moment, hearing those words, I instantly

felt a deep concern for my uncle. Whatever was left of Khomeinis

niecewhatever was left of my parents daughterwhatever was left

of the woman who had the right to besomehow, I knew without a

doubt that whatever my uncle had doneand for whatever reasonhe

never meant for any harm to come to me. For a few minutes, I

cautiously stared at my uncle. I did not want to accelerate the

uncertain situation, so I s lowly lowered my gaze. The swirling sense of

betrayal I experienced in hearing one of the few people I had trusted

in this forced makeshift life, so coldly blurt out this possibly

debilitating phrase caused me to once again feel paralyzed emotions.

The next words I heard were from Imam Khomeini. Did she possibly

have that volatile information before now? How could you? I never

authorized such treatment. Did you give any consideration as to how

such information could affect her? With indifference, the spokesmen

replied, Instead of acting outraged, just sign the papers. That is all

you have to do, and she will be able to leave with you. I cant do

that, emitted the Imam with grave sadness in his voice. The


20/33


that, emitted the Imam with grave sadness in his voice. The

addition is the one thing that I cannot put my signature on. After

hearing those devastating words, like a dream trapped in a shrinking

bottle, I realized that I would not be able to leave with my uncle, and I

shut down. There were no feelings of disappointment, fear, or dread,

even though I did momentarily wonder: Will they kill me now? Do they

have any further reason to keeping me alive? These questions flowed

through me with no more emotion than a person questioning what hewould have for dinner that evening. Once the questions regarding my

safety subsided, I felt claustrophobic. A sudden sensation of being

enclosed within an extremely narrow funnel hindered my ability to

breath. Like an embryo subjected to a physical lockdown, at that

moment, I did not completely exist. The next very vague awareness

for me in that church was hearing the Ayatollah instruct the young

companion standing next to him to accompany me into the interior of

the building so that I would not be able to see them leave. As the

reticent and humble young man began to walk toward me, he was

stopped. The large Catholic Church had two sections of double doors

which led to the interior of the church. I attempted to enter through

the doors closest to where my uncle was s tanding. I wanted to be able

to simply brush up against him, but was prohibited from doing so.

Instead, I was led away like a wounded animal into a selected pew of

the church where the law enforcement officers family members were

seated. After all, he was now a member of the family I had been

caused to believe was my biological family. After being seated for a

while, the spokesman sat down next to me. In the pew in front of

where we sat, I heard his six-year-old daughter softly and kindly

state, Thats not fair. They should not keep Aunt Madaline away

from her real family. Why are they doing that to her? She should be

able to leave with her uncle. Her words soon faded away just as the

prior activities did. The cruel actions made against me that evening

caused my uncles next concern: I sincerely pray that one day, she


21/33


y y p y y,

can understand that I absolutely had no choice. As I mentally

transported myself back to the embassy, I could hear myself say, I

dont remember the exactness of what happened next, Mr. Shahid. I

only know that, to this day, I dont understand how I survived that

experience. I dont understand how, when my uncle was caused to

leave me behind in that church that night, I did not completely

crumble, experience a total mental breakdown, or dis sipate. Mr.Shahid then leaned forward, securing my attention, and confirmed,

Not only did you surv ive that encounter while remaining mentally

stable, but look how far youve come. Look how far you have come,

he repeated. And with the magnitude of all you have endured, you

accomplished coming here all on your own. No one helped you get

here, yet here you sit. Its more than remarkable that you survived.

Have I truly survived, Mr. Shahid? I confided. From where I sit,

you have done so with much grace and dignity. Mr. Shahid then

stood and apologetically stated, Please forgive me. I am so sorry,

but I have someone waiting outside that has been here for nearly

thirty minutes. Unfortunately, its not convenient for him to

reschedule at this time. He opened his office door for me then said,

Before you leave, allow me to mention how pleased your uncle would

have been to know that you understood the impossible position in

which he had been placed. Mr. Shahid, I understand that you have

someone waiting outside, but do you happen to know what it was that

Imam Khomeini could not put his signature on? While I was still in the

vestibule, the Imam stated that he had made some exceptional

concessionbut there was a specific point that had been added to the

negotiations that was impossible for him to sign. No, I dont know

the specifics, but I will attempt to locate that information since it

seems important to you. And if permitted, I will share it with you at

the next visit. Before escorting me from his office, the diplomat

asked if I was alright and in need of a car to take me to the train. I


22/33


assured this obviously concerned man that what I needed was a little

time alone, adding that I might take a walk in a nearby park. As I got

closer to the front lobby door, when Mr. Shahid stated that he would

see me the following week; however, there appeared to be a tone of

questioning in his statement.It is strange that of all the things

forgotten or remembered in my life, one of the incidents that I most

vividly recall is a bee sting I received around the age of seven. Theintense, almost paralyzing and numbing pain inflicted by that

unexpected painful encounter with the angered insect, was somehow

in a parallel sphere with my emotional state as I exited the embassy

that day. Ironically, on that day, instead of submitting to the

propensity to take a healing walk through plush foliage, instead of

merging my spirit with the regenerative scents of freshly bloomed

nature, instead of caressing the sights, sounds and the majestic

hues, I acquiesced to the damaged ethos of an Mk-Ultra survivor. In

bypassing the enticement of nature, I sat on the local bus that took

me to the train, I s tared out of the window and noticed the botanical

magnificence passing before my eyes. I instantly wondered why I had

not taken the walk. Moments later, I sat in wonder of whatever had

happened to the spirit of the person who, as a child, collected

ladybugs on an index card then watched as the insect walked from the

card to her arm, just so she could feel the minute sensation of the

tiny creatures legs crawl up her arm. I sat puzzled, wondering where

the mimicking and playful follower of grasshoppers, the chaser of

butterflies,the taster of sunrise now resided.At my next visit to the

embassy, Mr. Shahid greeted me not only with his usual charm and

warmth, but also with a glint in his caramel colored eyes. He wore the

type of mischievous smile one might see on the face of a child about

to reveal a secret. Once I was comfortably seated in his office, he

hurriedly stated, After your last visit, I suppose due to the weight of

our conversation, I forgot to inform you that your uncle left you an


23/33


inheritance, adding that the sum was quite substantial under any

monetary consideration. The enthusiasm and excitement expected

after hearing that a large sum of money had been willed to me was

not there. The stoic demeanor received by Mr. Shahid after his

announcement of the monetary benevolence seemed at first to

confuse him, until I softly seeped, I would much rather that my uncle

were still alive. Nodding in an empathic gesture, he concurred, Ican understand your sentiment. For a moment, after that exchange

between the diplomat and myself, neither of us spoke. We sat in

silence, both mentally and emotionally. I recognized, and then

inwardly acknowledged, an inherent need to reconnect with my linage.

I felt astonished at the fact that I had not rememberednor thought

about the event that had taken place in that church on that bitterly

cold winter night in December since its occurrence. This fact alone

caused nausea. How long the silence between the diplomat and myself

continued that day, I cannot say. But I do vividly remember what his

next words to me were. He sat more relaxed than either one of us

had been up until that point. You do realize that you have gotten to

this point all on your own. Amazingly, no one has helped you, and with

all you have endured, here you sit. After hearing his words, I

honestly felt no sense of accomplishment at that time. There was no

sense of achievement in having had endured physical and mental

torture, emotional and sexual assaults, mind boggling taunts,

humiliation, and probably the most painful experience of having been

separated from my son. What I felt or experienced was a state of

being partially anesthetized. There were no feelings of joy or hopeful

anticipation. The continuation of my staid demeanor did alert Mr.

Shahid to my dilemma; he, in acknowledgement of that fact stated,

You have been separated from your family, and as far as that is

concernedfrom yourselfoff and on, for over twenty years now.

Naturally, it will take a while for all of this to settle; but in the


24/33


meantime, by your next visitor most certainly the one followingI

will have all the paperworkcompleted for your return to Iran.During

my weekly visits to the embassy, this diplomat never once looked at a

watch while I was seated in his office. He never demonstrated

boredom or impatience. He never caused me to feel that his status

was above mine. This reality contributed much to the strength that I

finally mustered upenough to revisit my past. However, I should also

give credit to the exceptional-tasting tea served. While seated in this

office, for the first time in years, I did not feel a sense of not

belonging. And by being treated with such kindness and respect, I

indicated, Mr. Shahid, before we go too much further, let me state

how much I appreciate the time you have allotted me during my

weekly visit


F R I D A Y , 2 N O V E M B E R 2 01 2

Honoring the True Self

It is now August 23rd, 2012 which indicates that the year 2012 is

more than half over. On this Thursday, I look inwardly and question if

my life is still about goals and accomplishments. Since I am a survivor

of one of history's most inhumane and brutal exprimentationprogram, when it comes to the evaluation of my personal

accomplsihments I sometimes feel like a remote viewer. I wonder and

question where is the woman, the person who existed prior to being

subjected to vile and callous treatment. Is it poss ible to reconstruct

the undamaged self, the true self, the person who vivaciously strived

prior to being dismantled and disassembled? Currently, I am working

on a creative project which I shall enter into a writer's contest which I
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/the-accomplished-womanthe-train-ride.htmlhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/the-accomplished-womanthe-train-ride.html#comment-formhttp://www.blogger.com/email-post.g?blogID=8481673037906412955&postID=1220140936424280996http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/honoring-true-self.html


25/33


have titled, "The Accomplished Woman." The inspiration for this

manuscript is the fact that with all I have suffered and endured,

somewhere, still, exist within me the acknowledge of the gifted

woman who though subjected to extreme exploitation while

experiencing brutal intentional disregard for my human rights

miraculously maintained personal values and a propensity for social

responsibility and justice.


T U E S D A Y , 1 3 D E C E M B E R 2 01 1

The Courage to Expose Pain and Exploitations

Never be without the remembrance of God, for His remembrance

provides the bird of the spirit with strength, feathers, and wings.-

-The Sufi Path Of Love--The Spiritual Teaching of Rumi

For a number of years now, I have been attempting to recovery

blocked memories which were stagnated due to a United States

Governmental human experimentation program, mainly, Mk-Ultra. A

brutal medically unethical project which parallels other inhumane

historical acts, such as; Slavery in America, American Indian

genocides, the German holocaust and many other extreme inhumaneactions. Although, I have survived and endured many traumas in my

life, somehow, I s till hesitate to expose my total truth; due to fear of

ridicule, not being believed, embarrassment and humiliation.

The truthful episodes of my life include the hallowed and the

hollowed. Somewhere, between the ages of five and six, I had been

kidnapped. Prior to age seven, the age of reason, I had been taken

f d l i f il d i I h d b
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/honoring-true-self.htmlhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/11/honoring-true-self.html#comment-formhttp://www.blogger.com/email-post.g?blogID=8481673037906412955&postID=6134132881758250710http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2011/12/courage-to-expose-pain-and.html


26/33


away from a secure and loving family and environment. I had been

removed from the cultural, religious, economic and social status in

which I had been reared. Nevertheless, and despite these brutal

actions, by my seventh year, a most exceptional and extraordinary

event happened in my life; I experienced a vision of Christ.

A most magnificent and miraculous i llumination to descend upon a

child who had through Mk-Ultra, and techniques like hypnosis and

psycho driving, been hollowed.

The protective self, the misaligned ego, the horror of the usurpation

of the secular over the sacred.

I will share more of the fact of the vision in a future post. But for now

let me share a short poem I wrote with you.

An opened space in time, seconds not assigned, the moment freed,

found the spirit bound, in mournful eternity.

Thank all who visit my blog and may the New Year bring fulfilled

dreams.

Blessings,

Maryam Ruhullah


T H U R S D A Y , 2 9 S E P T E M B E R 2 01 1

The Shed
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2011/12/courage-to-expose-pain-and.htmlhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2011/12/courage-to-expose-pain-and.html#comment-formhttp://www.blogger.com/email-post.g?blogID=8481673037906412955&postID=7647713258675281102http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2011/09/shed.html


27/33


"Inch Worm, Inch Worm, measuring the Marigolds you and your

arithmetic you'd probably to far. Inch worm, inch worm measuring the

marigolds seems to me you'd stop and see how beautiful they are."

It was summer. A day of play and ease. I had heard often from

neighbours, from the adults in the household where I lived at thetime, "they really should cut down that unused shed, it's a danger, it's

not safe."

I guess I will always wonder why the adults, the neighbours, the

members of the block union did not follow through on the concern, the

hunch to have the vacant shed torn down.. A streetcar track ran

between and separated the blocks of Kensington Place and McMillion

Street, in this primarily,residential neighbour. The fact of a storage

shed once owned by a family who had recent moved away, still stood,

lurked about like a fathom.

"Boy! I wish they would tear down that old shed" I once heard one of

the children of the area say. "After all, ghost might hang out there or

something worse."

The amazement or the nostalgia of a community which had never

been touched by tragedy parallels that of a venerable utopia. The

crimes and horrors heard on the nightly news were events that

always, I surmised, always, happened somewhere else.

There was a four family flat directly across the street from the single

family house where I lived. It was alright with the neighbourhood that

a non-single family dwelling was situated in the center of the block on

this almost exclusive single family housing area. Since the occupants

of the flat worked in semi professional occupations they were
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2011/09/shed.html


28/33


of the flat worked in semi-professional occupations, they were

accepted. With three of the ladies occupants being school teachers

and their husband's worked in various fields like aircraft mechanics or

steel mill workers, they were not snubbed, after all, they were

respectable church goers. Historically, the same family had lived in

the mentioned flat for two generations now. So, when the unexpected

death of the patriarch of the family caused his wife to move with her

sister, everyone assumed that the tradition of renting only to their

family members' would be sustained.

The Harrison family owned the flat and had not rented to anyone not

a family member since the structure had been built. In this close knit

neighborhood everyone was somewhat like family. Everyone in the

4700 block of Kensington Place knew the other neighbor's on a firs t

name exchange. There was very little visiting in and out of

neighbour's home; but neighbours always, I mean always. spoke and

exchanged pleasantries on chance meetings.

When the new neighbours moved in, no welcoming committee greeted

them. After all, this was the first time someone not known by

someone else in the community had moved into this community for

over twenty years.

The woman of the new family did not work outside of the home andthe husband was in maintenance. They had one child, a daughter and

she was perhaps eight or nine. It was rumored that the husband

worked more than one job and was rarely at home. I heard that the

late Mr. Harrison had been the new neighbour's supervisor while

developing a friendship and feeling a little sorry for the cordial man.

It was said that Mr. Harrison had told his wife that the man had never

gotten a break in life and wanted to move into a neighbourhood

where his daughter would be able to attend a good school


29/33


where his daughter would be able to attend a good school.

Furthermore, it was told that the man one day mentioned to the

tender hearted Mr. Harrison, that people did not think that a man

who cleaned toilets and mopped floors had dreams. It was reported

that Mr. Harrison promised the down-trotted man that if ever a place

in his flat became available, he would have an opportunity to move

his family into a better neighbourhood. Probably, Harrison never

believed there would be an opening in his building, but, still, life's full

of the unpredictable.

Consequently, when the humble janitor one day appeared on the door

step of the widow Harrison, espousing his respect and admiration for

her late husband while sharing his ambition for creating a better life

for his family, that staging seemed to have been the catalyse needed

by Mrs. Harrison to move with her also widowed sister who had been

pleading for her company. Displeased with the decision, the

community words were. "Well, we will have to keep a close watch on

that new family," so decided the block union board members as well.

Not surpris ingly, the new family never really passed the acceptability

test. The decision was made and upheld not to invite the young eight

year old girl to the Watkins' weekly, homemade ice cream party, after

all, too little was known about the family and especially since a man

had started vis iting the household often while the head of thehousehold was not at home.

When it was later learned that the frequent male visitor was the

husband's brother, the party invitation was still withheld when a

second questioned rose retarding,why the brother had so much time

on his hands since he was seen visiting during the day. as well as late

evening. How it was learned that the brother worked as a

independent handyman and wanting to make sure that his sister-in-


30/33


independent handyman and wanting to make sure that his sister in

law and niece were safe and doing okay in the new neighbourhood, his

frequent appearances did not cause fewer questions.

How is it that close consanguinity shame can often sinks deeper than

that of the perpetrators? Could that factor hinge on previous denial.

The internal mental batting away of obvious facts and signs. The

escaped phrases which do not retract like the slivering snake's

tongue, "My brother could never do the things of which he was

accused. His so good with my daughter. He could never hurt a child."

After the new neighbours had been in the community for six months

or a little longer, unusual things began to happen, in this traditionally

predictable neighbourhood. The Parkers' pedigree Afghan Hound was

nowhere to be found one evening when they arrived home. Bill

Johnson's prized Motobecane Fly mountain bike was not in his

unlocked backyard storage unit the weekend of an amateur race. At

first, it just seemed too easy to blame the neighbour's brother; but

what was the other rationale.

An emergency block union meeting was called when the Smith's

lawnmower along with the O'Neil's most adorable Coton de Tutear

puppy vanished. Of course, the children of the neighbour were never

told what was discussed at the meeting. Unless, somehow, somethingwas over heard by curious little ears. The only thing known by those

who became the most affected by the new neighbour's sibling threat

was the feeling of totally powerlessness mingled with fear.

I, for one, suddenly, without fully realizing the fact, began to quicken

my gait when returning from the corner candy store with my daily

purchase of a Hostess cupcake. When the Stevenson's pet collie,

Colonel, the neighbourhood children's favored pet, one afternoon was


31/33


Older Posts

Colonel, the neighbourhood children s favored pet, one afternoon was

not to be found, Kensington Place became forever changed. Like, an

undetected slow leak, gradually, the standards of the community

changed and deflated. After the brutal rapes one day of three

elementary school girls in the vacant shed, the previous question of

whose responsibility it was to tear down the storage facility was never

asked again.

The powerless often suffer from the procrastination and indifference

of those in the position of decision-making and authority. It is not

acceptable that daily humankind must lives with invisible stingers.

These stingers being criminal injustices such as, plausible deniability,

for reason of national security, and the arrogance which refuses to

answer for its crimes.

Maryam Ruhullah

"I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with roughest courage.

When they are real, they are not glass threads or frostwork, but the

solidest things we know. For now, after so many ages of experience,

what do we know of nature, or of ourselves? Not one step has man

taken toward the solution of the problems of his destiny." Ralph

Waldo Emerson


Home

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)

Followers
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/search?updated-max=2011-09-29T11:52:00-07:00&max-results=7http://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2011/09/shed.htmlhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2011/09/shed.html#comment-formhttp://www.blogger.com/email-post.g?blogID=8481673037906412955&postID=3820039799571968142http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/http://ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default


32/33


Join this site

w ith Google Friend Connect

Members (6)

Already a member? Sign in

Blog Archive

2012 (5)

December (1)Objective Truth

November (4)

2011 (6)

2010 (6)

About Me

ruhullaha

I am a survivor of Mk-Ultra. A

United States Government Human

Experimentation Program which

used unwitting human subjects for

a human behavior modification

program. In enduring the extreme

pain of having my mental state
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679http://void%280%29/http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/search?updated-min=2012-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2013-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=5http://void%280%29/http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012_12_01_archive.htmlhttp://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012/12/objective-truth.htmlhttp://void%280%29/http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/2012_11_01_archive.htmlhttp://void%280%29/http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/search?updated-min=2011-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2012-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=6http://void%280%29/http://www.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de/search?updated-min=2010-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2011-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=6


33/33


altered from excessive non-

medically necessary electroshock

treatments and sleep deprivation,

and other inhumane form of

torture, through the grace of God,

I survived. I pray each day that in

the wonder of my personal survival,

that I will be able to be of service

to others.

View my complete profile
http://pdfcrowd.com/http://pdfcrowd.com/redirect/?url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.ruhullaha-maryamkho.blogspot.de%2f&id=ma-121223151555-221e713dhttp://pdfcrowd.com/customize/http://pdfcrowd.com/html-to-pdf-api/?ref=pdfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17693205002793697679

Strahlenfolter - Maryam Ruhullah - MkUltra Survivor - Www_ruhullaha_maryamkho_blogspot_de

Documents

Transcript of Strahlenfolter - Maryam Ruhullah - MkUltra Survivor - Www_ruhullaha_maryamkho_blogspot_de